Remember that first month
by Mcube
Summary: The experts call it New Relationship Energy, when it's between a fiery genius and a passionate alien, the term takes on a whole new meaning. A series of writing challenges from the We're Just Saiyan community. "Four weeks of contradictions", prompts exploring the dualities Sin/Salvation, War/Surrender, Promise/Deal broken, and Pain/Pleasure (not necessarily in that order).
1. Cosmic Dancer

**All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are my own. I do not own Dragon Ball(Z) nor am I making any money off of this. No copyright infringement is intended.**

I'm hooked on these writing challenges. This one is also a prompt from the "We're just Saiyan" Google+ community.( If you haven't already, go check it out). This is part 1 of 4, the challenge is "Four Weeks of Contradictions" and this is my take on it. **_(Pleasure/Pain)_**

* * *

"_Now, from tadasana bring your right foot up and behind your ear while tipping forward. Keep the four corners of your left foot grounded into your sticky mat, and remember your pranayama._"

"Lady, have you lost your fucking mind? This defies the constraints, _ugh_, of the human body, _oooh_, and, I think the laws of, _oww_, physics. Yeah, 'cause breathing, _pshhh_, always helps." Bulma admonished the woman on her screen.

Vegeta walked into the bed room to catch a view of his woman's well toned ass stuck in the air and her foot being pulled, by her, in an unnatural position around her head. "The fuck are you doing?"

"Vege-oof" Vegeta watched his woman tumble to the floor in a heap of red lycra and limbs. She gathered herself to sit cross-legged in front of her new...well, she wasn't sure how to define him yet. The times were few when she caught him smiling, even rarer still were the times he actually laughed. "I'm flattered that you would find humor in my pain." She quipped. "I'm doing yoga. My guru is on vacation for the month and I can't miss my practice or I get stiff." She stood and stretched herself into a half moon posture, first to the right, then to the left.

"Why do you warp yourself into these positions knowing it will be painful?" he baited her.

"Ha! You think this body is natural, shit, sorry, I'm not chiseled perfection packed into a god-like alien body. I have to actually work at all this beauty." She winked as she walked past him and nabbed the towel from around his shoulders, headed for the bathroom.

"I should think that qualifies you as a hypocrite."

"I'm sorry, what?" She spun on him, eyebrows raised; she was _sure_ she didn't hear him right.

"You bitch incessantly about the training I put myself through; and I come upon you wrenched into contorted positions, by choice."

"Oh _hardly_ the same thing! Daddy isn't building a regen tank because I pull a muscle working the Cosmic Dancer. When you drag my unconscious bleeding body out of the yoga studio, then you can talk" she flipped his towel back to him.

This relationship was new, to both of them. Vegeta never felt compelled to give two shits and a damn about another person, and Bulma wasn't accustomed to a man who was her equal. They were still in the "exploration phase" of the relationship. He agreed to move into her room just a week ago. He had to admit, once he convinced her to clean the sty, it was a comfortable arrangement.

"On the contrary, I believe it's precisely the same thing." He playfully wrapped his arms around her from behind. "You push your body beyond its limits, however narrow those weak earthling limits are, for your own personal gain."

She spun around, still in his embrace, and slid her hands up and through his hair. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy her touch. "I push myself beyond my limits because I've discovered sex with a Saiyan requires one to be a contortionist." She kissed him lightly on the nose.

"Woman, you don't seem to complain." He dipped his head low and nuzzled her neck right under her ear. He found she tended to purr when he kissed her there. "In fact the only words you seem to be able to form are 'damn Vegeta, deeper'." His deep sultry voice rumbled in her ear.

Bulma felt her control slipping. She forced herself to gather her senses, and pushed away from her prince. She strode across the room to her dresser, (it was fun to have a distinction between 'his' and 'hers'), and pulled out a dark blue hoodie.

"What is this Cosmic Dancer you referred to?" He asked as he leaned against the desk.

"Oh! It's one of my favorites. Here look." She tossed the sweatshirt on the bed, and held out her arms, making sure there was enough room around her. Standing with her feet hip width apart, she held out her left arm straight in front of her for balance. "Now I lift my right leg up in an arc behind me, like this." Vegeta was impressed by the fluidity with which she moved. Like true warrior, this slight little earth woman flowed with the discipline of a tested fighter. When she gained control of her balance, she reached both hands up, arched her back and grasped her right foot, which by this time was almost touching her head.

Vegeta was mesmerized by the flexibility and development in her back and hips. She'd carry healthy cubs. He glided over to where she was posed. Her eyes were closed in meditation, so she wasn't aware of him studying her like a sculpture.

"What other forms can you assume?" He asked quietly, reverently. He pulled his hand away before he touched her.

She gracefully released the pose and resumed a normal stance. "Forms? Oh I guess these are like your martial arts forms, except I don't move much. There's a bunch of them. I've been doing this forever, but mom can do more of the guru asanas than I can."

The thought of the crazy old blond in those same positions suddenly made Vegeta fall limp. "Never mention your mother doing _that_ ever again.' He shivered. "The image is going to take forever to fade now."

Bulma swatted at him with her hoodie. "Jerk. I meant Mom's been doing yoga since she was a girl. It takes as much pain and practice to get into those positions as it takes you to-" She stopped herself before she validated his original argument. It was too late, she realized, when she saw that self-righteous smirk. "OK, I get it. Sometimes you have to push yourself beyond your limits." She conceded.

Bulma met him half way across the room and linked her arms around his neck. His arms followed, slipping around her waist. "I guess I forget your threshold for pain and mine are worlds apart." She chuckled at her own double entendre. "I suppose severing a femoral artery isn't much different for you than if I tweek a hammy."

"Tweek a ham-" He began to question. "Pull a hamstring muscle." She clarified.

Vegeta smirked. "Your earth euphemisms amuse me. Fine woman, I will make every attempt to refrain from destroying the training equipment, " Vegeta was almost annoyed with himself for making deals with the woman, "if you agree to allow me to take you in any one of these postures." He chuckled a deep sultry laugh.

It was lost on Bulma how he didn't really promise to refrain from hurting himself, because a thousand tasty images filled her mind. Was he really that turned on by yoga postures? Before her head exploded with the sheer ecstasy of it all, she shook herself into reality. "You can take me in any position you want. And I will try not to bitch at you for dragging blood trails through the house." She closed the space between them and kissed him.

She broke their kiss when a thought popped into her head. "If you're really _that_ into it, there's this practice called tantric yoga. It requires lots of training and discipline."

"I've 'surfed' the internet too, woman." He flashed a wry grin. "I know all about this _Kama Sutra_."


	2. We'd always be friends…

_**We'd always be friends…**_

* * *

Penny loved her job. Her friends didn't believe her when she told them she was sworn to secrecy with regard to her work. She may have been just a secretary, no "_front desk liaison_", but Capsule Corporation was no ordinary employer.

Things in the front office had been slow since she returned from lunch. Just as she felt herself dozing, the most beautiful sight on the premises came crashing through the door.

"Good afternoon, Prince Vegeta." Penny perked up and noticed he was lugging another shattered training bot behind him. "If you're here to see Ms. Briefs, she left strict orders that she wasn't to be disturbed. Bad phone call this morning; boy is she in one of her moods."

"That doesn't apply to me. " He didn't even pause to acknowledge her as he swept past the front desk, turned to his right and plowed through the blast doors of the hallway leading to Bulma's private lab.

Penny chuckled quietly to herself. Bulma Briefs_ would_ have to go off-world to find someone who could measure up to the intense bitchiness that defined her character. But damn could she find some fine specimens of man-hyde. She watched the lower half of the tasty alien prince walk down the hallway toward Bulma's lab and wondered just how many alien races looked like that.

Vegeta walked through another set of blast doors, into a war zone. A file cabinet lay on its side, and three separate projects were partially assembled on her lab benches. When Bulma looked up to see Vegeta standing in her entryway, she launched on him before he could speak.

"Oh abso-fucking-lutely no! I am in nowhere near the mood to put up with your shit today. Throw these at Daddy if you need them fixed immediately, and while you're at it just go to hell for a while." She screeched at him in what he was sure was one single breath.

"What the hell is your problem? I know for a goddamned fact that I haven't spoken to you once today."

"You thoughtless prick! You're all alike. You expect everything to be given to you but you never give anything in return."

"Woman, if you don't stop addressing me in such an irrational manner I'm going to walk out of here and leave you to your frivolous emotions until you can cease your unremitting disrespect." He tried to speak with an even tone, and not lose his temper. He found he sounded more condescending that way.

Quite unpredictably, Bulma flopped down on her swivel chair and began to cry. "Typical…you all leave…when I need you." She sobbed.

Vegeta hung his head. He hated this. He was a warrior; he knew nothing of human female emotions. He was discovering they were most complex. "Speak, woman." It was about as comforting as he could manage.

"Yamcha called this morning. He told me he wasn't coming to Thanksgiving. He promised when we broke up, we'd always be friends." The pitch of her voice became higher as she tried to contain her sobs. "He promised me he'd always be here for me even though we weren't together anymore. He told me he was going to try to be OK with you and me. He promised; now this."

"This is a celebration of some sort? I assume it's important to you?"

"He hasn't missed one in ten years. He's always been here." She propped her elbow on the nearest bench and supported her head with her fist while composing herself. "How could he let me down like that?" Bulma breathed a deep sigh.

She stood, and grabbed the main console of the training bot from Vegeta's hand. "Oh forget it; just put the rest of it over there. I'll fix it before dinner." Her tone was dismissive.

Vegeta figured it would be an opportune time to leave her, but at the same time he felt a nagging impulse to fix something.

* * *

Vegeta flew east, over the great desert, following the weakling's Ki. He found the fool practicing some idiotic sloppy forms at the base of an odd rock formation.

"What do you want?" Yamcha felt Vegeta coming and decided to put on his best show of force. He felt stronger for training in the wilderness.

"A month ago you went to great pains to let me know how you felt about this arrangement between the woman and me; and how it was something you didn't approve of. You threatened me with the '_wrath of Goku_'; I believe that's how you phrased it, if I did anything to hurt the woman. I should think Kakarott would bring down hell on _you_ for the same offense. Now the woman weeps with some babbling female emotion over a promise _you_ broke to her. I am bound by honor and I will not let this go unpunished."

The mention of "_Goku_" and "_bring down hell_" made Yamcha nervous. "Whoa, wait. I never broke a promise to Bulma- well not intentionally. Besides, _you_ promised Bulma you wouldn't kill anybody on Earth."

"I made a living making people wish their lives would end, rather than suffer the pain I could inflict. In fact, I should think I'd like to see how much anguish the human body can take without dying. You broke your promise apparently when you refused to attend this Thanksgiving celebration-"

"She's upset about that! Dude, I thought I was off the hook for that. It's your problem now."

"My problem?"

"Yeah, family holidays are boyfriend duty, man."

"Boyfriend?"

"Ha! You don't even know what you got into." Yamcha sat cross-legged atop a large boulder.

Vegeta paced in front of the boulder. "Explain…NOW!"

"Thanksgiving's a big family time. It's also a cluster fuck of drama. Ms. Bunny's family all comes over to the compound. They're rich old money, so there's always somebody getting pissed with somebody for something stupid; usually something that happened so long ago that the principles are probably dead by now. I went every year either 'cause I was living there or 'cause B wanted the support. I figured with you around now, she'd want you to fill the support role. I didn't do Thanksgiving cause I wanted too, I felt sort of obligated. Foods fantastic, though." He threw in as an afterthought.

He stopped pacing and looked up. "The woman didn't mention food."

"Oh yeah, the whole thing's about food. Loads of it, you might actually get full."

"Never happen. Does Kakarott know of this?"

"Yeah, sort of. This neck of the world, I guess it's where my people came from too, celebrates something similar, but it happens tomorrow. They call it Labor Thanksgiving day, it's a celebration of the harvest and Ox King has a big party to thank his people for their labors. Puar and I were going to Fire Mountain with Roshi and Krillin, and all." Yamcha looked down to Vegeta with a half grin. "She really wanted me there."

"She was quite adamant. It seems the wom-Bulma felt as if you were betraying a promise by not supporting her."

"Well, I guess if she needs me, I'll go." He jumped off the boulder and stood a little straighter; felt a bit more courageous. "Hey, I'll give you props for this." He gestured between the two of them. "I didn't think you'd actually put yourself out for her."

"Yes well, it doesn't go any further than this desert. Where is the shape shifter by the way?"

"Puar's at Roshi's. His skin gets all chaify out in this dry heat for too long." Yamcha shrugged. "Naa, it's just between us; guy code, man."

Vegeta took off to the north east. Curiously, he headed the opposite direction from West City. Supper time was approaching and Yamcha was hungry. He also had a phone call to make.

* * *

It was around midnight when Vegeta landed on the lawn behind the living area of the Capsule compound. Quietly he entered the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator. The old blond always left him plenty of food.

Bulma was waiting for him to return home. She thought she heard him in the kitchen and when she walked in, sure enough, there he was with his head buried in the fridge.

"Hey, look, sorry for losing my shit earlier. Yamcha's screwed me over so many times I figured he was just doing it again. Turns out it was just a misunderstanding. He called me a little while ago, said he and Puar were invited to Goku's for their thanksgiving, too. Something about the day's being different, and Chichi's people celebrating tomorrow, I don't know. I guess I assumed he meant he wasn't coming here, but whatever. Anyway, we ironed everything out. He's going to be here next week."

He faced her, robotically stuffing a turkey sandwich into his mouth. Figuring she'd get no response, she continued. "Yeah, so Yamcha's coming for Thanksgiving dinner, and my mom's family too, so don't do anything stupid or violent, K?" He still gave no answer. "Right, yeah, so I'm going to bed. I'll probably be asleep before you get there, so, night." She started into the other room, but turned to face him. "And _please_ promise to be on your best behavior next week."

"I never make a promise unless I intend to keep it. Don't ever forget that." He grabbed the bottle of water off the counter, and followed her upstairs.


	3. Decisive Victory

**Decisive Victory**

* * *

He was situated on the railing of the terrace attached to his old room; his back pressed against the wall of the building and one leg dangled over the side. This balcony offered a strategic view of the entrance to Capsule Corp; it also looked out over the West City skyline. He pulled out his fourth cool green bottle from the case at arm's reach, and popped the cap off. Taking a long draw off the bottle, he listened to the noise below him. There must have been fifty people down there. He'd starve before he showed his face among such a loathsome horde. The woman hadn't told him there would be so many people invading the compound for this celebration. In truth, he successfully avoided her for almost a week. The weakling was here, he arrived several hours before everyone else. The thought of the incident in the desert filled him with rancor.

Vegeta was still wearing the training pants and tank top from earlier in the day. When he entered their room earlier to shower, he saw the woman laid out clothing for him to wear to the meal. He left the room without even showering, in utter disgust. She dared to instruct him on his appearance after the humiliation she drove him to.

For the past thirty minutes, Vegeta followed the woman's weak ki as she prowled the compound, searching for him. She entered his former quarters a few minutes ago, and was creeping closer. When the balcony door slid open, he stiffened readying himself for battle.

"There you are. Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"

"Roughly one half hour" he didn't look at her when he responded, his gaze remained fixed on the West City skyline.

"Argh, you knew and- hey, why aren't you dressed yet? Supper's almost ready."

"I won't be joining you." He sat with the stillness of a lurking predator.

"What do you mean? Everybody is here; they all want to meet you." She let her hands fall to her sides in exasperation "You know the least you could do is show some respect to my parents by making an appearance at supper after all they do for you. And really, I told my family I was dating a prince; nobody believes me. I think you owe _me_, too."

"You have no right to speak of my debt to you." He spat. "Those freeloaders don't deserve to be in my presence. Besides, you have the weakling, isn't that all you need?"

"What are you talking about Vegeta? I want you there too." She reached out for his arm hoping he'd turn to face her.

With lethal speed, he cleared the railing and landed on the tile floor before her. Not only did he face her, but his face hovered inches from hers. "Self-centered bitch, you are _so_ accustomed to getting what you want. Your powers of manipulation are expert. You _think_ you weakened me, and yes I admit, you wore down my resolve with your talents, but I will no longer be played by you."

She backed up three steps, her face flushed with anger. "What the fuck are you talking about? How dare you speak to me that way? I've never 'played you'."

His stance was regal and bold, his expression haughty and indignant. "You exploited my honor and damaged my pride. I didn't notice at first, it took a day for the reality to sink in. The 'feigned weeping' over scarface's broken promise. Was it a test or did you simply wish to belittle me?"

"Vegeta I-"

He peered at her through narrow, judging eyes. "Why did you _need_ him here so badly woman? Was it to show off the prince and the pauper secured firmly beneath your control? I'm calling your ruse bitch, Yamcha may have no pride, but I will not be flaunted as your trophy"

"Why are you angry with me? What did I do to you?" She stomped her foot to emphasize her frustration.

"God damn it woman, stop insulting my intelligence." Vegeta was loosely holding on to his temper. "Do you operate with such disregard that you won't even admit when you've been exposed?" He tried desperately to control the volume of his voice. "At least you've achieved one goal, you scheming whore, you have the weakling here."

Shocked, Bulma ran both hands through her crown of cyan curls, struck with sickening insight. "Oh my god, Vegeta, _you _told him- he's not here of his own accord? That phone call, the excuse, it was all bullshit. He really _wasn't_ going to come?"

"I saw the gloating in his eyes, woman. He only agreed because you wanted him to fill a role I apparently was intended to fill. He felt superior to me. _That's_ why he's here. I will not indulge either of your egos anymore than I already have." He turned his back to her and stared out into the bright city skyline.

Bulma stood stone still, staring at the patio tiles, eyes wide in personal reflection. "Wow, I feel like the world's most renowned bitch." She lifted her head slowly to gaze at his profile. "Vegeta, I don't know why it hurt so much when he said he wasn't going to be here." She shrugged. "I suppose it wounded my pride. I've _always_ had control of him; I guess I didn't want to give it up.

She breathed a deep sigh and walked forward to lean against the railing beside him. "You're right. I manipulate men, I always have. Honestly, I didn't even consider you would go out and find him."

After a brief reflection she continued. "I don't _think_ I want to control you Vegeta. In fact, I didn't think anybody could. I can't expect you to believe me, but I wasn't trying to manipulate you."

Bulma followed his stare; she wondered what he was fixated on out there. "You know something? You're the only person I've ever met who can force me into such a deep self evaluation. I don't even think Goku could get me to admit such guarded personal flaws. What's it been, a month last week since we started this?"

"God you scare me, sometimes." She whispered as an afterthought.

Silence settled over the pair. After a tense half-minute, Bulma gave up. "Look all I can say is I'm sorry, I know it sounds superficial, but it's not a word I say often." She looked at him, her face drawn in defeat. "I know you hate mixing with people, so don't worry about supper. Seems you have enough beer; I'll send some servo-bots up with food."

Quietly she walked back into the room. Vegeta stood tense and battle ready until he heard the door latch closed. He snatched another bottle from the case and tore off the cap with more force than necessary. He resumed his perch on the railing, and attempted to block out the commotion from below.

His beer was only half empty when he heard a slam from below. He looked down to see Yamcha standing at the main entrance of the compound.

"But babe, I was _thinking_ about coming. Bulma…BULMA."

Yamcha looked up and noticed Vegeta. He glared at the prince on the terrace high above him. Vegeta tilted his beer bottle in salute; his battle decisively won.


	4. 10 years later

Blue plastic tote boxes were scattered around the common room. Festive holiday music filled the air. Bulma stood in the midst of all of it feeling empty. Not even Bunny's "special" eggnog held the formula for lightening her spirits.

Following their 'discussion_'_ last week, Vegeta disappeared not long after he ate the food she sent up to him. She also noticed, about four days ago, his clothes were cleaned out of his dresser. Damn stealthy alien. She was pretty sure he was gone for good. The only thing that would keep him on this planet was the thought of ascending to Super Saiyan and pummeling the crap out of Goku.

Bulma mentally kicked herself. In retrospect, she could see how Vegeta thought she was playing him. When she was honest with herself, she had to admit her tears didn't arise from genuine sorrow, but from scorched vanity. She never thought he would seek out Yamcha in defense her honor. She felt a mixture of shame and delight when she thought of what Vegeta had done. Regrettably, Vegeta's pride meant everything to him, and she damaged that pride. Trust was a precious commodity to him, so was forgiveness. Bulma was certain she'd never again receive either one of them.

Life has a way of moving on, and this was probably the busiest time of year. A few days ago, she and her parents began decorating one room at a time throughout the expansive mansion. Usually, she loved to decorate, but her heart wasn't in it tonight. She was supposed to be enjoying this with Vegeta, schooling him in all the nuances of one of her favorite holidays. Instead, tonight she decorated the largest room of the house, alone. Her parents were off to a Christmas party hosted by one of the many charities Bunny sponsored and wouldn't be home for hours. Bulma turned in a slow dramatic circle, taking in the room. As a rule, she didn't let herself feel overwhelmed with any task, tonight was the rare exception. Not sure where to begin, she flopped down on the floor surrounded by storage boxes and began to remove decorations, laying them out on the floor around her.

From the bottom of the third container, she pulled out a worn old stuffed velveteen Santa doll. She held him close and breathed deep into his bright red coat. Bulma smiled at the warm familiar smell of cinnamon and sawdust that reminded her of so many care-free Christmases from her youth. "You'll always be true to me, won't you big guy?"

"If he answers you, I _will_ turn around and walk out that door."

Bulma jumped, startled by the sultry melody of Vegeta's voice. She hugged Santa close to her chest. "Hi." She stammered. "You're back."

He leaned against the door jamb, dressed casually in jeans and a light blue polo shirt. "I see you're so bereft of intellectual equals you've resorted to conversing with stuffed toys."

Bulma gathered her wits and resumed their usual banter in stride. "Santa's my main squeeze. We've been together since I was a toddler."

Vegeta scrutinized his surroundings as he strolled into the room. "Another celebration? Does this one revolve around food as well?"

"Not entirely, but mom does bake a lot." He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked, doubting the flaky blond could possibly bake more than she already did. "Yeah, I know. More than usual. This holiday's kinda international. It started out as a religious holiday, but it's mostly a secular, commercial thing now. Some of mom's people still get uber-pious about it though. We decorate the whole house, lights outside, exchange gifts; it's all part of the fun."

Vegeta picked up one of the smaller decorations and examined it. "Why do you have a replica of Garvian female as one of your decorations?"

"A what?" Bulma looked up at him with her head cocked, puzzled. He turned the object in his hand to show her. "Oh, that's an angel."

He scoffed. "Only on earth would an angel be a celebratory icon. The term _angel_ refers to a harbinger of death in every other culture in which I have heard it used."

"Well here angels are a symbol of peace, hope and salvation." She took note of how he regarded the little ceramic figurine with contempt. "Be as cynical as you want, but I have hope for the future." She dug into a box for more ornaments. "After all, you came back." She muttered.

Conspicuous tension hung heavily between them. "I did." He finally answered. "And I'll be residing in my former room. My training has suffered without the facilities offered here."

She rummaged through another box, trying to bury her disappointment. "Probably a good idea." She lied. "Maybe we were a bit impulsive."

He turned toward her and felt the odd tightening in his chest that he only felt around this woman. Vegeta stooped to her level and looked deeply into her crystalline eyes. "Why would you even care if I left and never returned?" His tone took on a smoothness she had never heard from him before.

The intensity of his gaze transfixed her. Without blinking her voice quivered hypnotically as she spoke. "I…I care for you; more than I ever thought I could care for anyone else."

He laid the angel on the coffee table never breaking eye contact, and gently cupped her face in his hands, brushing soft thumbs across her cheeks. Bulma held her breath with anticipation at his intimate touch. "You're such a little fool." Vegeta grazed her lips with his in a tender kiss. When she pulled him closer, he poured all of his passion and anger into her. She responded to his kiss with pleading desperation. Bulma slid her hands up under his shirt and traced the broad muscles of his bare back until she reached his strong shoulders. He broke contact only long enough to peel his shirt off before she captured him again and held him in the strongest embrace she could muster with a silent prayer of forgiveness.

Gently, he lifted her off the floor and laid her back on the sofa, the soft white pillows cradling her like a cherub in a cloud. He couldn't resist her soft cherry lips. The reunited lovers kissed again with frenzied desire even as they rid each other of their remaining clothes. Vegeta paused, hovering above her, entranced with the image of pure white framing her angelic skin.

She gazed up to him with an open expression of unassuming innocence. "Thank you." Bulma sighed. "I know your forgiveness is probably something you've never granted to another being."

Their eyes locked as he slid his full length inside her tight welcoming core. They rocked their hips in unison; a slow steady rhythm that swelled with intensity. Deep brown eyes gazed powerfully into pure blue, their stare never parting from each other. Bulma arched her back pushing deeper into his embrace, feeling the rapture of her climax. Vegeta gently urged her to look him in the eyes as he answered her with his own release.

Not fully recovered, Vegeta reluctantly pulled himself from her. Bulma's eyes were closed, basking in the warm ecstasy of her euphoric climax. He leaned in toward her and gently kissed both eyelids, then sat up, still between her legs. He laid his hand gently palm down on her chest between her breasts, feeling the beating of her heart. Bulma's eyes drifted open and she gazed through hooded lids at her lover. The look on his face confused her, she had never seen a look so serene soften his features.

As quickly as she put a name to the look it was gone, replaced by the arrogant sexy sneer that drove her wild. He jumped from the sofa, and began pulling on his pants. Vegeta turned to her with a sly grin; shoes in one hand, shirt in the other. "I'll be in the GSR, inform me when food is ready."

Bulma laid her arm over her eyes and laughed. "Ha! Sooo glad you're home '_prince charming_'." She waved absently in his direction, but she didn't look up to notice him smile as he walked out the back door.

* * *

…ten years later.

"Remember that first month; do you know why I forgave you? I' m no saint Bulma. I may have learned to control the rage and hatred, but it will always be a part of me. I never knew how you accomplished it, but you taught me what it meant to care. No one else ever made me _want _to forgive." They sat side by side on the edge of their bed. Vegeta was slouched forward, elbows resting on his knees. He looked down examining the length of each carpet fiber; anything to avoid the shame he'd feel by looking into her eyes.

"I knew, at some point, I would give in to the demon in my soul. I knew I would need _you_ to forgive _me_. I knew then, as I know now, you're the only reason I keep fighting it."

She swallowed hard to fight the lump in her throat and the keep the tears from spilling. She loved him, but she still couldn't reconcile the horrible things she had seen him do. Granted he was under the control of an evil wizard, but the Vegeta she knew wouldn't allow himself to be controlled against his will. There were reasons and she would eventually discover them. Right now, though, he needed her forgiveness; she had to dig deep and find a way to give him that.

She breathed a deep sigh. "How long did it take before you trusted me after that?"

"Completely, I suppose it was a few months after Cell was defeated, around the time of the boy's first birthday. Hell, I thought the pregnancy was another _tactic_." He chuckled.

"Yeah, you forgave me, but it took almost two years to trust me again." She smiled softly; her tone was growing a bit more lighthearted.

"Forgiveness itself was big for me, besides, aren't you always telling me you humans are far more 'f_eely_'? I figure you shouldn't take as long to trust me again." He tipped sideways, bumping her shoulder with his. "You should know, I care enough for you to have risked permanent fusion with Kakarott in order to save you and the boy."

Bulma turned to her right so she faced him. In response, he pivoted to his left to face her. "You know I love you too, you jackass." She leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "But if you ever die on me again, I _won't_ be so forgiving."

* * *

The more I read it the worse it gets...it's been an effort to continue this challenge; my inspiration fizzled out on me after chapter 2. This chapter was particularly challenging to write. I can't write sex, and it shows; yeah I know it has a rushed feel. The point was for Vegeta to demonstrate caring and forgiveness the only way he knew how- what can I say, I'm not a trained creative writer. I'm sure the sin/salvation duality is pretty vague too, I tried.

Anyway, I'm putting my writing on hold, at least for the foreseeable future - it's been an experience. I appreciate the reviews I did get, though.

Whatever you celebrate this season, hope it's great.

-cube


End file.
